


Three Ghosts

by ssa_archivist



Category: Smallville
Genre: First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-01-22
Updated: 2005-01-22
Packaged: 2017-11-01 07:52:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/354015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ssa_archivist/pseuds/ssa_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On Christmas Eve, Lex's sins come back to haunt him, and true love conquers canon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Three Ghosts

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Secret Slashers Xmas Fic Exchange 2004, for which the requirement was Mary-Sue-like inclusion of the recipient. This is for Obscura, an awesome and inspiring friend, who requested mpreg!Lex and Degrassi-Junior-High-jealous!Clark. It has a little of both. 

## Three Ghosts

by Nuala

<http://www.livejournal.com/users/nualanightbloom>

* * *

Title: Three Ghosts 

Author: Nuala. 

Rating: PG-13 

Summary: A _Smallville_ take on a classic Christmas story, now with slashy goodness. 

Warnings: Mpreg, AU, some OOC. Also, Canadian spellings. Spoilers through season 3. 

Feedback: Feed the author! 

* * *

On Christmas Eve, 2011, at 4:12 p.m., Lex Luthor was going over the paperwork from a recent LuthorCorp acquisition. It was looking good -- the numbers crunched in a very profitable way. And the company's patented ore micro-refinement process would undoubtedly prove very useful in LuthorCorp's development of Kryptonite-based weapons and technology. While the rest of the world might turn around and bend over for some all-powerful extraterrestrial, Lex preferred to have a contingency plan. 

At 4:49 p.m., Lex had Lisa, his secretary, throw out a group of interns who were going through the tower singing Christmas carols and collecting money for the Metropolis Home For Christmas charity. Lex hated Christmas. 

At 5:02, Lex reluctantly allowed his secretary to show Lucas in. Lex's half-brother had found God three years ago after hitting rock bottom and nearly dying from an overdose of the street version of an experimental drug in development at LuthorCorp. Now he had a pregnant wife, three kids, a motorcycle repair shop, and, apparently, all the happiness money couldn't buy. Frankly, Lex had preferred the impudent, conniving, greedy Lucas of eight years ago. 

"Lex!" Lucas called out as the apologetic-looking Lisa held the door open. "Merry Christmas!" 

"Lucas," replied Lex, "I'm in the middle of some important paperwork. Is this important?" 

"It's the most important thing in the world to me right now, Lex," said Lucas, "except Sarah and the kids, of course. I'm here to invite you to Christmas with the family." 

By "the family," Lex knew Lucas meant his in-laws. Lionel had died two years ago in an extravagantly ironic manner -- eviscerated by an escaped "experimental subject" from one of LuthorCorp's more shady laboratories. Lex had quickly put an end to experimentation on living creatures, establishing more humane conditions and vigilant protocols for existing subjects, and pushing LuthorCorp into the lucrative business of developing Kryptonite ore for commercial and military use. Lex supposed he should have felt more at Lionel's death than brief triumph at gaining total control of LuthorCorp, but he really didn't worry about it too much. He had bigger issues. 

"We're having brunch around 10:00, then we'll just sit around and chat, maybe watch some movies. Supper is at 6:00. It'll be great -- turkey, ham, potatoes, gravy, cranberry sauce, Mark's vegetable casserole, Nana's homemade stuffing... come on, Lex, you'll at least come for supper, won't you?" 

Lex considered. Maybe a bit of family time wouldn't be so bad. He might even spin some good PR out of it if Sarah would let him bring a photographer. "All right, Lucas, but only on one condition," Lex said, turning on the charm. 

Lucas beamed. "You name it, brother!" 

Lex hid his inward cringe, smiling brightly. "There has to be Christmas pudding. It's not really a proper Christmas dinner without pudding, flambed in rum and smothered in brandy butter." 

Inexplicably, Lucas suddenly looked uncomfortable. "Sure, Lex, there'll be pudding." 

Lex was immediately on his guard. "Is there something you'd like to tell me, Lucas?" 

Lucas wouldn't meet Lex's eye. Definitely not good. "It's just that... well, you know Sarah knows about... and she felt so sorry for them, all alone in that farmhouse...." Lex stiffened. He hoped this wasn't going where he thought it was going. "So we invited the Kents to join us for Christmas day. Martha's making the pudding." 

Lex made a show of consulting his sleek PDA. "You know what, Lucas? It looks like I'm booked tomorrow after all. I'm sorry for the confusion, but I simply can't get away. This recent acquisition, you see. It would be really bad form for me to ask all my top workers to stay on tomorrow to work on this while I go off to a family party, don't you think?" 

"Come on, Lex," Lucas intoned. "You know how many people will be there tomorrow for supper. You'll never even have to be in the same room as them if you don't want. But I really think you should see Timothy, Lex, he's..." 

Lex snapped his PDA shut with a cold glare. "I'm afraid it's not possible. Perhaps next year. Now, I assume you can find your way out without an escort..." Lex trailed off with just a whiff of threat. 

"Fine, Lex," Lucas said sounding miserable. "We really wanted you to come, but if your whole company is working tomorrow..." 

Lex smiled stiffly. "Yes. Goodbye now. Say hi to 'the family' for me, will you?" 

"Sure, Lex. Merry Christmas." Lucas, looking sad, shuffled out of the office. 

Lex sighed. He walked over to the tasteful mini-bar off to one side and poured himself a Scotch. The truth was no one at LuthorCorp was working over the holidays. He'd given everyone at least several days paid leave, and nice holiday bonuses to boot. He kept this all quiet, sensing (if he was honest with himself) that his generosity to his employees stemmed from a guilt that he couldn't bring himself to examine too closely. 

At 5:30, Lisa poked her head in. "I'm heading home, Mr. Luthor. Did you need anything else before I go?" 

"No, thank you, Lisa," Lex replied, glancing up from the glowing screen of his computer. "Get home to Josh and your family. I know they're waiting for you." 

Lisa smiled. "Thanks, sir." She hesitated. "This may be out of line, Mr. Luthor, but... do you have anyone to go to tonight? And tomorrow?" 

"I'm covered, thanks," Lex replied, smiling slightly. 

Lisa looked relieved. "Good. No one should be alone this time of year. Merry Christmas, sir. See you in a few days." 

"Thanks, Lisa, good night," Lex replied as she softly closed the door behind her. 

At 9:14, Lex had consumed two-thirds of the Scotch, and was feeling distinctly unsteady. He had cut out alcohol four years ago after nearly dying of alcohol poisoning six times in three weeks. The last time it happened, Toby had lectured him while he lay, weakened and miserable, in bed at the penthouse. "Among your other notable physical abnormalities, you have the highest tolerance for poisons of any human I've ever seen," Toby had said, "yet you still manage to ingest enough alcohol to do yourself serious harm. Fuck, Lex, if you want to kill yourself, go throw yourself off a building or something. This is pathetic. It's unworthy of you." And Toby had stalked out of the room. 

Lex had been angry, of course, but too weak to act on it beyond glaring feebly at the closed door. Three days of bed rest, intravenous fluids, and a diet of Jell-O and mild broth gave him enough time to decide that, while Toby was still a know-it-all jackass, it was perhaps time for Lex to get his act together and start really living. 

As a result, the relatively small amount of Scotch, drunk on an empty stomach, was more than Lex could take and still be able to analyse spreadsheets. He called a cab -- he'd even given his drivers the holiday off -- and stumbled downstairs. 

At the penthouse, Lex managed to pay the cab driver, cross the lobby, and get into the elevator without incident. The swift ascent of the express elevator almost undid him, but he managed to hold it together. He hadn't been nauseous since.... Abruptly tamping that train of thought, Lex braced himself on the mirrored wall of the elevator. When he opened his eyes, he saw his reflection on the polished surface. 

Suddenly, his reflection blurred -- understandable, given his state. What wasn't understandable was why his reflection resolved itself unmistakably into the face of Lionel Luthor. 

The reflection opened its lips. "Lexxxxxxx....," it whispered hoarsely in his father's distinctive voice. 

"Yeeeaaaaargh!" Lex yelled, and fell into the opposite corner of the elevator, covering his eyes with his hands and shaking. What the living fuck was _that_? 

Soon the elevator door opened with a soft ping. Lex uncovered his eyes, staring fearfully at the mirrored wall opposite him. Seeing only himself, huddled and trembling on the floor like a child, Lex huffed in disgust. This was precisely why he had sobered up in the first place. 

Hauling himself up, he walked into the penthouse. Lex staggered to the couch in the living room and collapsed in an undignified heap. Taking deep breaths, he reached for a bottle of water from the side table. Telling himself it would be much better to drink some water and stay up until he was feeling a bit better than if he were to fall asleep, which is what he desperately wanted, he grimly drank as much as he could before letting his head loll back. 

God, he hated Christmas. It made him feel even more alone than usual. The empty penthouse took on an ominous feel during the holidays. Add that to his encounter with Lucas today and... 

Lex allowed himself a momentary flash of bitterness at Lucas inviting the Kents to Christmas. Lucas -- and Sarah, and everyone else -- knew that Lex would never come if the Kents were there. Apparently, a family they barely knew was more important to them than Lex. No surprises there, Lex supposed. It wasn't as though Lex went out of his way to spend time with Lucas and his happy, happy family. 

Lex forced himself to swallow the last of the water. He wondered if it would be so bad if he just went to sleep now. It wasn't as though he had pressing plans for tomorrow that a hangover would interfere with. He closed his eyes and slumped where he sat... 

_boom_! _boom_! _boom_! 

Lex started up, looking around. He didn't think he had imagined it.... 

_boom_!!! _boom_!!! _boom_!!! 

There it was again. What the hell? No one knocked at Lex's penthouse door. Any servants had the holidays off, and any visitors were buzzed in by the team of doormen. Who on earth would be calling at midnight on Christmas Eve anyway? 

**_BOOM_!! _BOOM_!! _BOOM_!! **

Lex, still groggy and half-drunk, sat paralysed with fear. He was a well-read man, if nothing else. He knew enough about almost every work of classic literature to use them in his trademark lectures. Because of the author's heavily mythologized morality plays and creatively constructed characters, Lex had, of course, read Dickens extensively. 

This was not happening. 

**_BOOM_!!! _BOOM_!!! _CRASH_!!!**

Lex squeezed his eyes shut as he heard the front door being smashed open. This was not happening. 

Lex heard a dull rattling and clanking, which drew steadily nearer. He felt a chill draft sweep over him. He smelled a familiar cologne. This was NOT happening! 

He heard a soft, familiar sigh. "Honestly, Lex," he heard his dead father's voice say, thick with disappointment, "a purple and black colour scheme in the living room? What were you thinking, son?" 

"Dad?" Lex whispered, not opening his eyes. "You're dead." 

"As a dodo," Lionel said jovially. "Slashed to pieces by my own creation," he added. "Something I had plenty of experience with in the metaphorical, my disloyal son, but was hardly expecting in the literal." 

Lex heard the clink of ice cubes on glass, and opened his eyes. For someone who had prided himself on his outlandish appearance, Lionel was a pretty standard ghost -- translucent, bluish, draped in chains. Lionel quickly fixed himself a drink from the bar against the wall, then carried it, clanking and rattling, to the couch where he sat next to Lex. 

"Now, son, don't stare. It's declasse." 

"You're dead," Lex repeated numbly. 

"I thought we'd already established that. Do try to keep up, Lex." Lionel sipped his drink. "Well, it _is_ nice to know that you inherited my exquisite taste in fine liquor. This is actually passable." 

Lex thought for a moment, then sighed. In for a penny.... "Dad, what do you want? I suppose you must be here to tell me to repent of my heartless business practices lest I end up carrying chains for all eternity like you, and that I will be visited by three spirits tonight?" 

Lionel smiled. "Almost, Lex, but not quite," he said, swirling his drink. Lex watched the liquid swirl in the glass through Lionel's transparent fingers. "Personally, I couldn't be prouder of you. You're running a fine company, turning a tidy profit, and most businessmen on the planet are terrified of you. I may not agree with everything you do, but the end result is satisfactory. I don't need to tell you that results are what matter to me, Lex -- results, profit, and notoriety. I see these chains as a mark of honour, displaying my ambition and success to other denizens of the afterlife." Lionel sipped again. Lex wondered where the alcohol went once it passed his father's transparent lips. "No, I'm not here to tell you to stop doing what you do best, son." 

Lex waited. Lionel would get to the point eventually, though perhaps that was overly optimistic now that Lionel was dead and had all of eternity to bait Lex. 

"I'm here to warn you about the one thing I do regret about my life, Lex," Lionel intoned seriously. "The one thing more important than anything else: family." 

Lex's brow furrowed. "You mean Lucas?" 

"Partly, yes. He's your half-brother, Lex, and he wants you back in his life -- his new life. You have a sister-in-law you've hardly ever seen, and a new niece on the way. But more importantly, Lex, you need to get to know your own son." 

Lex looked away, too tired and drunk to stand and storm about like he wanted to. "This is just a fucked-up dream," he said angrily. "I drank too much Scotch and passed out." 

Lionel chuckled. "Oh, don't you wish! I'm afraid this is real, Lex, and Luthors always face up to reality. I'm telling you, if your own family doesn't love and remember you after you're gone, well.... You're doomed to wander between earth and the next place until they do remember you. Some people go about it ass-backwards, mind you, haunting their progeny and scaring the hell out of them. Such misguided idiots. Love is the only thing that lets you move on. I was lucky that Lucas cared about me in that last year -- and afterward, in memory, as he starts his own family -- enough to push me slowly toward the next place. But before I go, I had to warn you...." 

"What kind of bullshit is this? What do you know about my son? You never knew! I never told you!" Lex was yelling now. 

Lionel smirked. "It's amazing, the things you learn once you're dead. I know about Clark, son. I know about Timothy as well. I know how he was born. You need to see them all again, and soon, or it will be too late for you." 

Lex didn't reply, staring petulantly at the far wall. 

Lionel swallowed the last of his drink. "At any rate, your three night-time visitors will probably be more convincing than I am. I was never any good at manipulation." Lex snorted at that. Lionel smiled. "Good luck. Thanks for the drink, son. And remember," Lionel said, laying a hand on Lex's cheek that felt like being splashed with ice water, "despite everything, I always loved you." 

Lionel walked back out, still dignified, hauling his chains behind him like a king's robe. Lex sat on the couch, stiff as a statue, his cheek burning cold. After a few minutes, he shook himself. Lionel had _not_ loved him; he had put Lex in a mental institution and run lethal levels of electricity through his body and brain so that Lex wouldn't remember Lionel's crimes. If that was love, then love was for the birds. What strange dreams came of too much drink and not enough sleep. 

Lex dragged himself into the master suite. He quickly washed, put on pyjamas, and crawled into bed. Night-time visitors indeed. What he needed was a good night's rest so he could take advantage of the empty office tomorrow. 

He closed his eyes and tried to let his mind drift. He was still agitated from today's reminders of the Kents, but if he could just think about something pleasant.... 

Suddenly, a light glowed in the darkened room. At first Lex thought his eyes were still closed, and the light was glowing pink through his eyelids. But his eyes were open; the light itself was pink. Lex gulped. It was emanating from a small figure standing at the end of his bed. 

"Hello, Lex," said Lana Lang. "It's one o'clock in the morning. I'm -- " 

"Let me guess," Lex interrupted. "The Ghost of Christmas Past?" 

Lana smiled disarmingly. "You recognized me!" 

Lex sighed, and climbed out of bed. He wasn't that tired anyway. "Let's get this over with." 

Lana held out her hand, which was glowing gently pink. "Take my hand, and whatever you do, don't let go." 

"Okay, but you should be aware that I hate fly-IIING!" Lex shouted, startled as Lana gripped his hand and they flew swiftly out the window and over Metropolis at a height of 126 commercial storeys. 

They flew through misty clouds and blustery snow, Lex panting and holding on for dear life. It's just a dream, he reminded himself, just a weird dream about Lana Lang flying and my father's ghost drinking my brandy.... 

Lana touched them down gently on the balcony of a shoddy-looking apartment. There was some sort of party going on inside, complete with tacky Christmas music and way too much laughter and shouting. 

Lex was confused. "Where are we, Lana?" 

Lana smiled patiently. "Look inside, you'll remember." 

Lex peered through the fogged-up window into the room. A small hole in the fog let him see with crystal clarity. He recognized the scene. 

"This is the night Clark and I first..." he whispered hoarsely. 

"Just look, Lex," Lana said softly. 

Lex looked back into Chloe Sullivan's college apartment. He saw himself talking to Chloe's roommate, Darren, who was flirting unashamedly with Lex. Lex appeared to be enjoying the attention, too, smiling back and even laughing slightly at something Darren said. 

Clark was talking to Lois Lane across the room, but Lex could see Clark shooting glares in Darren's direction. 

Lex, in his pyjamas on the balcony, smiled. "God, he's so adorable." 

The party raged on around them. Darren had manoeuvred himself and Lex to a position under a sprig of plastic mistletoe hung from a ceiling lamp. Lex playfully pecked Darren on the cheek while onlookers laughed goodnaturedly. Darren, in keeping with his personality, kept jokingly trying for a much more intimate kiss. 

Suddenly, Clark was pulling Darren away, shoving him into a couch and yelling at him. Though he couldn't hear from the balcony, Lex remembered what Clark had said -- accusing Darren of hitting on anyone rich, of breaking Lex's heart. It had been painfully embarrassing, but touching. 

Lex himself had stood calmly under the mistletoe until Clark had finished his tirade and the party had fallen silent. He'd said (and from the balcony, Lex could read the words on his past self's lips), "I'm right here, Clark. Is there something you'd like to tell me?" 

Clark swooped over and pressed a desperate, clumsy kiss to Lex's lips, before turning crimson and running out of the party before anyone could react. 

On the balcony, Lex turned to Lana. "It was so sweet, that night. I couldn't find him anywhere, so I just went to the penthouse. God, he was waiting for me on the balcony!" Lex chuckled at the memory. "Even I wasn't expecting _that_ one! We fought, of course, about who was keeping secrets from whom, and where Clark really came from and everything. It all came to a head with confessions of longstanding love. We ended up tangled around each other on the couch, kissing and touching wildly. It was so intense." Lex shivered at the memory. "We were like that for months. It didn't last, though...." 

"I know why, Lex," Lana said to him, glowing pink. "Come." She held out her hand, which Lex took without thinking. 

A swirl of snowflakes and a blast of wind later, they were back on Lex's penthouse balcony overlooking Metropolis. Lex thought he'd been brought home, but he noticed that there was no snow, and the ornamental bushes that were on either side of the French doors had been replaced at least two years ago. They were still in the past. 

"Look inside," instructed Lana. 

Lex went to the French doors, open to the warm breeze, and walked cautiously in. He saw himself arguing with Clark. His past self was facing away from the balcony. 

"How on earth could you not have known, Clark?" Lex was shouting. "You have your own goddamn alien father conveniently in a nearby cave to tell you about these things!" 

"Well, he didn't tell me this!" Clark yelled back. 

"You never thought to ask about how your species procreates?" 

"It never came up! Jesus, Lex, do you ever discuss sex with your dad?" 

"That's not the point!" Lex spun around angrily, showing his distended belly straining at the buttons of his expensive shirt. "I'm human, and I know how my reproductive system works! Or at least how it's _supposed_ to work... you know, with other humans." 

Clark looked so hurt. "God, Lex, I'm so sorry," he said miserably. "If I'd known I could make you pregnant..." 

"What?" demanded Lex. "You would have dumped me?" 

"No! Of course not!" Clark said. "I love you, Lex." Clark gathered Lex into a hug from behind, careful not to squeeze his belly. "I love you so much, and I would never leave you. I would have, I don't know, found a way to make it safe for you. But it happened, and we'll find a way to get through this, okay?" Lex struggled out of Clark's embrace and stomped angrily out of the room. "Lex!" Clark called after him. "Lex, wait!" 

Lex retreated through the balcony. He knew how the next weeks played out -- confiding in Toby, a barrage of tests on himself and Clark, telling Martha and Jonathan about their relationship and their ... situation. Lex had gone into hiding at the Kent's farm, sending his father and sundry journalists on a merry chase around the world after a veritable army of Lex look-alikes had been deployed. Running the company via email, phone, and Kryptonian instant messenger (e.g. Clark flying a hard copy or diskette to offices in Metropolis), Lex chafed at his confinement. 

A lot of strange things had happened to Lex over his lifetime, but becoming pregnant by his alien lover -- even Cassandra with her visions hadn't seen that one coming. Lex's belly swelled, his skin riddled with stretch marks, pushed outward by a developing pseudo-uterus. Alarmingly, his breasts developed, swelling slightly and aching, even excreting milk toward the end. He experienced terrible nausea, intense cravings, riotous mood swings -- sometimes all in a single day. 

Through it all, Clark stayed by his side, loving him and supporting him, despite the fact that Lex rebuffed him almost every time. Martha slowly overcame her initial shock, eventually looking forward to her first grandchild; she even enjoyed having Lex around after a while. Jonathan had been the real shocker, coming around even before Martha. It had been Jonathan who really helped Lex to separate himself from Lionel in terms of morality; Jonathan who treated him not like a freak, but just like an ordinary man who happened to be a gay, bald, pregnant billionaire with an alien lover; Jonathan who simply absorbed Lex's whining and tirades, responding not with pity or anger, but only with " _Coronation Street_ 's on in ten minutes -- do you want popcorn or cookies today?" Lex always smiled when he remembered watching _Coronation Street_ every day with Jonathan. Who would have thought? 

"Lex?" Lana held out her hand to him. "We have one more place to visit tonight." 

Lex took her hand. She took them up and through the blowing snow, landing them outside the Kent's barn. It was now the middle of winter, at night. Lex felt a lead weight settle in his stomach. 

"Lana, why did you bring me here?" he asked brokenly. 

"I think you know why," she replied in her small, soft voice. "Look." 

Lex glanced at the barn door as it swung open. He watched himself peer out, dressed warmly in Clark's old work jacket, Jonathan's old boots, and a wool scarf (purple) that Martha had made special for Lex, with a backpack slung over his shoulders. His past self quickly trotted across the frozen ground. He hesitated briefly as the cry of a baby split the air, but moved even faster after that. 

Lex, standing next to Lana by the barn, hung his head in shame. He had fled the Kent farm, left his lover and their infant son. He had met a car by the back quarter that had taken him to Edge City. 

Lex felt briefly disoriented as the wind blew faster and clouds swirled unnaturally swift overhead. Within seconds, dawn arrived and the world slowed down again. Lex knew that his past self was already on a plane out of Edge City, heading for Thailand. 

Again he heard the cry of a baby. A _whoosh_ noise and streak of colour sailed into the barn. From inside the barn, Lex could hear Clark calling for him. Suddenly, Clark came running out of the barn, holding little Timothy wrapped in many blankets. "Lex!" shrieked Clark into the cold dawn air. "LEX!!!" The baby cried hysterically. 

Martha and Jonathan, clad in bathrobes, came out of the house and ran toward Clark. Lex watched in numb horror as Martha, understanding what she was seeing, began to weep. All three adults held one another, Timothy sobbing in the centre of them, knowing that Lex had left them and was not coming back. 

"But I was afraid!" said Lex. "I was so damn scared. I had just given birth, for Christ's sake, my body was completely messed up. There was a fucking _cervix_ in my asshole! I was _lactating_! And I had a baby, and I was living in a farmhouse in the middle of fucking nowhere with the baby's father and his family. We were settling down in this nice little family unit, and I... God, I have no fucking idea how to be a parent! What the hell would happen to Timothy if I turn out like Lionel? Or like my mother? She... Oh God, oh God... Look, I just wanted my old life back. Jonathan and Clark kept talking about building another house on the home quarter for us, so we could live there forever. And Martha would just look at me with sympathy and say 'Don't worry, sweetie. After a while, you don't even miss your old career. You just get used to the quiet here on the farm. You'll see.' Fuck, I was terrified of that! Clark wouldn't listen to me, all he cared about was raising Timothy on the farm, and I just couldn't take it! You had to get out of Smallville -- you understand, right?" Lex turned to Lana, feeling a bit hysterical. 

Where the girl had been standing were only footprints, glowing softly pink. "Lana!" Lex yelled. "Lana!" As he ran forward, the dawn light faded out and Lex was running through thickly blowing snow. "Lana!!!" He tripped in the darkness, and braced himself for a fall on the hard frozen ground. 

_thud_

Lex landed unceremoniously on the floor next to his bed in the master suite. He was covered in cold sweat, but the room was empty. Sighing, Lex got up. He went to the washroom and splashed cold water on his face, then downed another bottle of water from the table by his bedroom door. The he climbed back into bed. Dream, reality, or alcohol- and stress-fuelled hallucination -- it had definitely been odd. Lana Lang, of all people. Lex chuckled weakly to himself. 

He closed his eyes and tried to push away the painful memories. Lex had thought he couldn't possibly feel guilt any more, not about _that_. 

After what seemed like a long time, Lex felt himself drifting. His eyes snapped open as he heard... was that _singing_? And he could smell -- not his father's cologne, thank God -- he could smell _food_. 

Lex sighed. He knew where this was going. He swung himself out of bed and headed to the anteroom of the master suite, where a light showed under the closed door. 

Lex pushed the door open to find... Morgan Edge seated on a golden throne, surrounded by leather-thong-clad nubile boys who were serving him goblets of wine, mounds of red grapes, and platters of roast meat. Edge was singing a disturbingly off-key rendition of "Food, Glorious Food" from _Oliver_! the musical, interspersed with nibbling food or sipping drink, and fondling the nearest servants. Jesus fucking Christ, thought Lex. 

"Lex! Dear boy, come in, come in! You're looking so thin and pale! Did you see a ghost?" Edge laughed softly at his own joke. Lex could feel his eyes bulging out of their sockets. "Come, have something to eat!" 

Lex was normally not a big eater, but the feast laid out before him was very tempting. Beautiful boys danced toward him, holding platters and goblets to him. Every time he tried to reach for it, though, the boys seemed to sweep the food just out of Lex's reach. 

"I get it," Lex told Edge. "You're the Ghost of Christmas Present. This feast is the bounty of the love and togetherness of the Christmas season, and because I've been such an asshole to my own family, I can't partake. Right?" 

Edge laughed again. "You always were a sharp one, Lex, when your father wasn't drugging you or otherwise traumatizing you. Pity he got that one last chance to manipulate you from beyond the grave, eh? Good lad, good lad. Well," he said, rising from his throne, "shall we be off?" 

"Sure, what the hell," said Lex. 

Edge put his arm around Lex's shoulder and led him through the door. Instead of the hallway, they stepped into a snowy street. Edge walked Lex up to a large, warmly lit window. "See, Lex, the fruit of your loins," Edge said wryly. 

Lex peered inside, and felt as though he'd been punched in the gut. There was Lucas, arm around his heavily pregnant wife, surrounded by her large family. Adults sat and talked animatedly while children played at their feet or scurried around the room. Lex could see a brightly lit tree with gaudily wrapped gifts piled underneath, at least a dozen stockings fighting for space on the mantelpiece, bowls of oranges and nuts on the coffee table.... It was a bit chaotic for Normal Rockwell, but the feeling of love and happiness was the same. 

But what really knocked the wind out of Lex was the sight of the Kent family. Jonathan sat talking to one of Sarah's brothers and sipping from a mug -- he looked older than Lex remembered, gaunt and bent over a little even when sitting. Clark, looking tired but gorgeous as ever, was helping a young girl turn somersaults in midair, holding her effortlessly while she shrieked in delight. Martha sat near the fire, holding a child on her lap. Lex's breath caught in his throat. 

The child had red hair like polished copper, and looked to be about three years old, though Lex knew he was five. He was thin and pale-looking, leaning his head against Martha's shoulders. He smiled wanly when spoken too, but looked too weak to get up and play with the other children. 

Lex leaned into the glass. "What's wrong with him?" 

"He's been sick for a long time, Lex," Edge replied. "Your worldwide experiments with Kryptonite have infused most of the air, earth and water in this planet with Kryptonite residue. The child is half-Kryptonian, and the land itself sickens him." 

"Is he going to be all right?" Lex asked in a broken voice. "Can't Clark do something?" 

"Clark used to help," Edge said. "He would fly Timothy to the Fortress of Solitude where the air was pure, but your plan to flush Superman out by flooding the poles with gaseous Kryptonite made that impossible. Until a year ago, Clark would help him by flying him far up into the stratosphere where there is less residue, but now the child's lungs are so weakened that he cannot breathe up there. The toxins are building up in his system. Unless a cure is found ... it's only a matter of time." 

Lex choked on a sob. Tears stung his eyes and he swore with feeling. "Why didn't they tell me? Why didn't they come to me? I would have done anything...." 

"You were in hiding for the first two years of Timothy's life," Edge intoned darkly. "When you resurfaced, finally recovered from the pregnancy, you rebuffed all their attempts at communication. Martha soon gave up trying, and convinced her son and husband to give up as well and focus on Timothy." 

"Shit," Lex said hoarsely. "Shit, shit, shit! There has got to be a way to... I don't care about the holiday, I'm going to get every single worker I have trying to find a cure for Timothy, or clean up the planet, or something! Fucking hell, I am not going to stand idly by while my son dies! Take me home now, Edge!" 

But Edge was gone. And Lex was no longer standing in front of Lucas's house, finding himself instead before a dark and cheerless yard that he recognized as Smallville's cemetery. It was night, and, despite being in Kansas, mist swirled around the wrought iron gates. Lex shivered inside; he knew what was probably coming, and the thought made his heart beat into his throat. 

A shadowy form emerged from the mist, wrapped from head to toe in a dark, shrouding cloak. An oversized hood covered the apparition's face. 

Lex approached the figure in the robe with a mixture of trepidation and annoyance. Unsurprisingly, given the late hour, the lingering effects of too much Scotch, and the emotional rollercoaster of the past few hours, annoyance won out. 

"So, you're the ghost of Christmas Yet To Come, eh?" Lex challenged. "Here to show me the horrors of my wicked, unloving ways?" Lex scoffed. "Whatever. My father's ghost was much more frightening than this. At least he had, you know, chains and things. All you've got is this predictable robe. How uninspired." 

As he spoke the last, Lex, greatly daring, stepped forward and pulled the hood off the apparition's head. He had time to cringe at his own rashness as the fabric slid down and pooled around the figure's shoulders to reveal.... 

A pleasantly smiling female face. 

Lex stared. He could feel his mouth hanging open. 

"Hi, Lex," the ghost said cheerfully. "You guessed right. I'm the Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come, but you can call me Obscura. All my friends do." 

Lex blinked. "Buh..." he said. 

Obscura just smiled more. She was wearing glasses and her blonde hair curled down to her shoulders. She looked utterly benign. 

Lex finally found his voice. "Aren't you meant to be a grim vision of death or something?" he asked. "Not that I'm complaining, but you're...." 

"Not exactly how you pictured me? Well, to be honest, I don't usually do this sort of thing. I'm filling in for the regular guy. His wife broke her collarbone, you see -- skiing in Whistler -- and he's home taking care of her. I got called in at the last minute. Now, he's a real professional in the ghastly spectre department, but I can assure you that the quality of your revelations will be in no way compromised. I have lots of experience dealing with horrifying visions of ruin from working for my Grad Student Association, so...." 

Lex shook his head. "Well, I suppose it could be worse," he said. 

"No kidding," said Obscura. "Some of the Powers That Be were arguing to have Lana Lang be all three of your ghosts." 

Lex stared. "Damn," he said, "I always knew someone up there had it in for me." 

"Yeah, well, pretty much everyone has to deal with malevolent forces at some point. Granted, yours have a pretty twisted sense of humour..." 

"Sense of humour my ass," Lex muttered. "They're absolute sadists if you ask me." 

Obscura smiled again. "Yeah, poor woobie you," she said with a bit of good-natured sarcasm. 

"'Woobie?'" Lex asked. 

"Never mind," Obscura replied. "Just come with me. I've got a few things to show you. They're not pretty, but, well... they're necessary, trust me. It'll hurt me more than it hurts you." 

"I doubt that." 

"I know, Lex, I know. Come on." 

Sighing, Lex followed Obscura through the gates. 

In the graveyard, the Kent family stood huddled around a small, simple headstone. Bouquets, wreaths, stuffed toys, candles and cards lay all around it. Presently, Jonathan put his arm around Martha and led her away, leaving Clark alone at the grave. 

Clark was hunched over, his head drooping forward. Tears coursed unheeded down his face, and his mouth was pulled into a pained grimace. He leaned forward and stroked one hand along the top of the headstone. 

The inscription read, "Timothy Hiram Kent / 2006-2013 / Beloved Son and Grandson". Clark ran a finger gently along Timothy's name. 

Lex felt as though his heart had turned to lead. Hot tears trickled down his cheeks. As he watched, Clark slowly turned and walked, slowly and haltingly like an old man, to where his parents waited. 

Lex felt a hand on his shoulder. "Hey. Are you all right? I know that must have been terrible for you. Here," Obscura said, handing Lex a tissue. 

Lex pushed her hand away. "My God, what have I done? I killed my son!" 

"Lex, you didn't..." 

"I might as well have shot him myself!" Lex screamed. "I gave birth to him, and because I was ... was scared, and _stupid_ , and too fucking proud to apologize or beg for forgiveness, he died! What have I done? What have I done...?" Lex's voice trailed off, the fight gone out of him. He felt utterly defeated, like his life's blood had been drained from his heart. 

Obscura cleared her throat. "I know this is the last thing you want to hear, but there's one more thing..." 

"My grave," Lex said tonelessly. "It's my own grave, isn't it." 

"I'm sorry, Lex," Obscura said unhappily. "It's not. It's worse. You have to see this, though." 

She put her hands on Lex's shoulders, and suddenly they were flying. When they halted, they were in a room filled with blinking electronic equipment, some of which Lex recognized from experimental prototypes at LuthorCorp. 

Lex watched his future self -- bitter, bent, twisted, sneering -- screaming insanely at a spandex-clad Clark who hovered in the air at a distance. "You'll never stop me, Superman!" Luthor hollered dementedly. "With this ring," he said, brandishing a ring set with a glowing green gem, "you can't approach me. There is nothing to stop me starting the ignition sequence!" Lex's other hand hovered over a control panel. 

"You'll be killing millions with your mad scheme, Luthor," Superman intoned in a deadly serious voice. He was fiercely determined -- he had none of Clark's vitality or emotion. "Haven't you killed enough innocents in your time?" 

This sent Luthor into a fit of rage. "You can't stop me, alien freak! No one can stop me now. This plan will make me the richest, most powerful man on the planet!" 

"Luthor! Stop this madness!" Superman commanded, hovering closer and cringing against the effect of the powerfully refined Kryptonite gem. 

"Never!" screamed Luthor. "You've stood in my way long enough, Kal-El! No more!" With that, Luthor quickly punched a series of buttons. 

Location became non-existent for Lex then. He saw, as from a great height, the launch and detonation of dozens of nuclear bombs exploding in a deadly-looking green that Clark would never be able to approach. He saw himself laughing insanely, watching the destruction rain down on the earth. He saw Jonathan and Martha Kent, bent with age and sorrow, look fearfully out their kitchen window back in Smallville as a missile streaked toward them. 

Suddenly, Lex was in the explosion. Fire raged around him, and blood spattered like rainwater on his body. The force ripped through his body, buffeting him like a rag doll. "Clark!" he screamed. "Timothy! Forgive me! Oh, forgive me! CLARK!!!" 

Through the maelstrom, Lex saw Clark flying toward him, desperation on his features. He reached out to Lex, but it was too late. Lex felt the flames finally consume him, and then blessed darkness came. 

Abruptly, Lex became aware that he was drawing breath after breath of clean, cool air. This startled him so much that he simply breathed for a moment or two, experiencing the sensation. Soon after, he became aware of the feeling of cotton sheets on his skin, the pillow under his head. He opened his eyes. 

Weak, greyish dawn sunlight trickled in through his window. He hadn't died. He hadn't died, and there was still time. 

The instant this revelation sank in, Lex leaped out of bed. "Fuck!" he shouted. "Fuck, oh, fuck me," he panted as he sprinted to the front door. He pushed the elevator button repeatedly, impatient. 

He looked down -- he was barefoot, and still in his pyjamas. "Shit!" he shouted just as the doors slid open, running back inside the apartment, grabbing his coat off the stand, and barely making it back to the elevator as the doors closed. The swift descent couldn't go fast enough for Lex, who bounced from one foot to the other and giggled under his breath. He felt giddy. 

The elevator finally opened. The two doormen on duty looked up in surprise at Lex as he approached them. 

"Mr. Luthor!" one said. 

"Merry Christmas ... what's your name?" 

"Uh, Geoff, sir," said the doorman hesitantly. "Is anything the matter, sir?" 

"No!" Lex said joyously. "Nothing's the matter! Everything's wonderful!" Lex turned to the other doorman, who looked like he was ready to bolt. "What's your name?" 

"I'm Thomas, sir," he replied. "Mr. Luthor, are you sure everything's all right?" 

"It's perfect! God, it's so perfect, there is still _time_!" Lex shouted. "Tom, my man, can you do me a favour?" 

"Sir?" 

Lex fished out his wallet and dug out several hundred dollar bills. "Go find me toys -- dozens of them. For a five-year old boy. And also other toys, for boys and girls -- can't neglect the rest of the family. And kids' books too; I want him to be smart. Lots of books. Here, take my platinum card too," Lex said, thrusting it at him. "Go, go!" 

"Sir, I can't leave my post..." 

"Oh, for fuck's sake, Tom," Lex said good-naturedly. "Geoff's still here. It's Christmas, it'll be fine! Besides, I _own_ this building! Now go, go, go! There must be somewhere open in Metropolis that will sell you toys on Christmas morning!" 

Tom stumbled out into the street, looking dazed as he hailed a lucky passing cab. 

"Now Geoff," Lex said, turning to the frightened-looking man. "When Tom gets back, I want you to pack everything into my limo. I'll drive it myself -- that'll be fun. I've never driven a limo before. In the meantime, I'll be taking care of some business. I know I can count on you, Geoff," Lex said, thrusting a couple of hundreds into the man's hand. "Don't let me down." 

"No, sir. I mean, yes, sir," the man replied, looking dazed. 

"Perfect. Wonderful! Merry Christmas!" Lex proclaimed in a singsong voice as he re-entered the elevator to the penthouse. He had work to do. 

On Christmas Day, 2011, at 8:04 a.m., Lex got the Smallville bank manager out of bed and negotiated the purchase of the Kent farm (which they had mortgaged again in recent years). He then initiated an emergency conference call with LuthorCorp's top scientists, its senior management team, its board of directors, and its investors, in which he brought about the halt of the company's development of Kryptonite-based weapons. He also made plans to begin investigating the possibility of cleaning Kryptonite residue from the air, water and earth. The call was neither brief nor painless, but Lex made it happen. He felt like he could make anything happen that morning. 

He also made plans with the medical staff to examine and treat a special case of Kryptonite radiation in a young boy. Lex stressed secrecy, and the need for a complete cure. 

At 9:58 a.m., Tom the doorman called from the foyer. Lex went down to find Tom and two shell-shocked sales clerks loaded down with bags from an upscale toy store. Lex tipped them all generously, ordered them to load up the limo, and made as if to follow them. 

"Sir?" Tom asked. 

"Yes?" 

"Uh, are you planning to go outside dressed like that? It's just that it's well below freezing, sir, and..." 

Lex looked down. He was still wearing his coat over last night's pyjamas. The fact that he considered -- seriously considered, for several seconds -- actually leaving the building like this made Lex realize just how bizarrely he was behaving. This wouldn't do. He had things to accomplish today. 

"Right," he said in his best business voice. "You go load the limo and bring it around front. I'll be down in a few moments." 

At 10:18, Lex sat behind the wheel of a limousine for the first time in his life, grinning maniacally. It was no Porsche, but the sheer size of the thing was a novelty not to be missed. He wondered if all the other billionaires knew how fun this was, or did their chauffeurs keep them in the dark too? 

At 10:49, a black stretch limo pulled up in front of Lucas and Sarah Dunlevy's house. Lex turned off the ignition and sat for a moment, suddenly unsure. He had done so much to hurt Lucas and Sarah, and he'd done far worse to Clark and the Kents... and his son. Lex hadn't seen the boy since he was only a few weeks old. The bags of toys crammed into the back of the limo suddenly seemed like such a shabby way to approach the mess he'd made. 

Lex was startled out of his melancholy thoughts when a small face pressed itself into the glass of the driver's window. Suddenly, the face disappeared, leaving a copious nose-print on the glass. Lex quickly stepped out of the limo. 

"Hey!" he called. "It's okay! Where'd you go?" 

A young boy stepped around from the far side of the limo, looking up shyly. The child had dark brown curly hair and big green eyes. Lex swallowed. "Are you Timothy?" he asked softly. 

The boy shook his head. "Tim's my cousin. He has to stay inside because he's sick." 

"Oh," said Lex. Guilt coursed through his veins like poison. 

"You've got a big car," the boy said. 

"Yeah," said Lex, "I needed it to carry all the presents." 

The child's eyes lit. "Presents?" 

"You want to help me carry them in?" 

The boy nodded eagerly, but they were interrupted. "Nathan, why don't you go inside. I think they're starting to open presents." 

Lex looked up to see Clark, wearing familiar flannel and denim, and hastily pulled-on boots. He wore glasses with heavy black frames, obscuring his looks. Lex's breath caught in his throat. Incredible guilt mingled with the same painful adoration he'd always felt for Clark. 

"Yes, Uncle Clark," Nathan said, beating a hasty retreat. 

The two men stared at each other. Clark looked utterly neutral, yet vaguely imposing. It's his Superman face, thought Lex, a little angry. He'd always hated Superman, who seemed to embody everything about Clark that Lex had found intolerable. 

"What are you doing here?" Clark asked calmly, crossing his arms over a chest that looked even broader than Lex remembered. 

Lex tried to find words. None came. This was absurd -- he was the world's greatest and most-feared businessman, famous for his eloquence and subtlety both in the boardroom and in the back alley. This defeated him, though -- a simple question from the man he still loved yet often hated, the man to whom he'd been most loyal to on this or any planet and yet had betrayed beyond what his worst enemies thought him capable of. 

"Clark? What's going on? Nathan said -- Lex!" Lex glanced up as Jonathan Kent strode down the front walk. 

"I think he was just leaving, Dad," Clark said with a hard look at Lex. 

"I somehow doubt that, son. Lex, what are you doing here?" 

The question, from Jonathan rather than Clark, was infinitely easier to address. "Lucas invited me for Christmas," Lex said. He cleared his throat. "He mentioned that Sarah had invited... the four of you. I assumed they had told you I'd been invited, but I can see that my presence here will make some people uncomfortable. I brought gifts -- I'll just drop them off and then leave." 

"Now just a darn minute, Lex," Jonathan said. God, he sounded the same as ever, even after all these years. "If Lucas and Sarah invited you, then you have every right to be here. Come on in. I'm sure everyone will be happy to see you," he added, with a glance in Clark's direction. Clark, Lex noticed, had really improved his scowl over the years. 

"What's going on -- Lex!" Lucas stood in the doorway. "You made it!" He was beaming. Finding God certainly had made Lucas happy, Lex thought. Perhaps he should put a LuthorCorp headhunter on the lookout for God. 

He took a deep breath. The euphoria of this morning was wearing off already, and Lex's day had barely begun. He thought of the first glorious night with Clark; he thought of the too-pale boy languishing in Martha's arms; he thought of the look of anguish on the Kents' faces as they stood in the cemetery. He could do this. 

He smiled. "Hi, Lucas. Merry Christmas. Yeah, I managed after all. Is there any food left?" 

"Sure is, Lex. Please, come in." 

Lex and Jonathan managed all the bags between the two of them while Clark looked on disapprovingly. They struggled into the house, where a line-up of eager children eyed the bags surreptitiously. Lex handed over a few bags for them to fight over, settling the rest under the ornament-laden tree. 

He turned to the adults still clustered loosely around the table. Sarah cleared her throat. "Lex," she said, smiling nervously. "So happy to see you. It's been ages..." 

"So you abandoned this branch of your family tree, too?" Clark asked, the petulant schoolboy breaking through Superman's stoic shell. 

"Now, Clark..." Lucas began. 

"I can't believe you, Lex," Clark went on, "barging in here, deliberately upsetting us...." 

Sarah was looking ever more anxious. Jonathan took Clark by the elbow. "Why don't we take this somewhere more private," he said, eyeing Martha and Lex. "We'll be back soon. Don't let the kids start opening presents without us!" 

Lex, Jonathan, Martha and Clark moved into a study near the back of the house. "I'm sorry for the misunderstanding," Lucas called after them. 

"There's no misunderstanding, Lucas," Lex said wearily. His post-dream fervour seemed very far away. What the hell had he been thinking? He closed the door and turned around, facing the family he'd abandoned almost five years ago. 

Jonathan stood beside Lex. Clark, scowling mightily, moved around them to stand next to Martha, who looked at Lex with distinct disapproval in her eyes -- "You hurt my boys," she seemed to be communicating, "and you are going to _pay_ for that, mister." Lex gulped. The lines were drawn, and the odds did not look to have fallen in his favour. Perhaps a strategic exit was in order. 

"Look," Lex began, "I know that my presence is causing some strife here, so for the sake of the kids I think I'd better just leave." 

"Yeah, that worked so well last time," Clark said angrily. 

"Clark!" Jonathan barked. 

"He just runs off on me, on Timothy, on all of us, and when he wants back in you're ready to welcome him with open arms?" 

"We did the same for you, son." 

"This isn't the same, Jonathan," Martha said coldly. "Lex, you had responsibilities..." 

"I know. There's no excuse for what I did." 

"Damn straight!" 

" _Clark_!" 

"All I can say is that I was young, I was scared..." 

"Lex, you can't expect us to just..." 

"...I had just given birth, and I felt like I had no control over my life!" 

"Martha, let the boy have his say." 

"You abandoned us! You left me to raise our son all by myself!" 

"I'm so sorry Clark..." Lex felt his throat close up. He felt utterly unequal to this. How could he have thought there would be any hope for him, ever? 

"God, you left us and went away. I never even knew where you were!" Clark was yelling, his face red with emotion. "Probably off fucking everything that moved, just like before...." 

"NO!" Lex's shout overpowered even Clark, and brought abrupt silence to the room. "I never touched anyone after you, Clark," he said sternly. 

"LIES!" Clark roared. 

"I'm telling the truth!" Lex hollered back. "God, Clark, I love you so much it scares the shit out of me! I always have!" 

Clark had no reply for that. Martha and Jonathan were silent. 

Lex went on. "I always loved you. There was never anyone else, ever. And I loved Timothy," Lex said, his voice catching. He fought to maintain control. "I loved him. And I loved my family," he said sincerely, looking into the startled eyes of Martha and Jonathan. "I left because I thought I could never stay on the farm with you, raising Timothy and being this happy, perfect family. I mean," he went on bitterly, "look at _my_ family. You think Lionel was bad? My mother _killed_ my baby brother. Murder, abuse, manipulation, drugs.... There is a darkness in me. It's in my blood. It would have come out sooner or later. It was better for me to leave than to expose you to that. Better to leave than to turn Timothy into who I am." 

"Who are you?" a voice asked behind him. 

Lex spun around. Peering through the slightly open door was a small, pale boy with red hair and hazel eyes. 

"Timothy!" Clark said. "Honey, I thought you were downstairs reading with Anna." 

The boy shrugged. "She got up to play with the other kids when they came downstairs," he said calmly. He fixed Lex with a sharply intelligent gaze. "Who are you?" he repeated. 

"Tim," Martha said soothingly. "We were just having some grownup talk. Why don't you go see if they've started opening presents yet?" 

"They haven't," the boy replied. "Uncle Lucas said they're waiting for 'the four of you to finish duking it out.' And I'm big enough to hear grownup talk," he added a bit defiantly. 

"Timothy," Jonathan said, "you know how most of your friends in Smallville have a mom and a dad? Well..." 

"Are you my mom?" Timothy asked Lex. He went from calm miniature adult to excited child instantly. "I have a dad, and a grandpa and a grandma, but I never had a mom. And I knew that my mom had to be maybe an alien or something, like dad, because of all the secrets..." 

"Timothy!" Jonathan chided gently. 

"If you're not my mom, and you're not an alien," said Tim, eyeing Lex's strange bald head, "then who are you? I heard you say you love my dad," he added accusingly. 

"Tim," Lex said, kneeling down. "The truth is, I'm not an alien. But I am kind of ... your mom." Lex winced a little as he said it. "I had to go away after you were born. I came back ... because I realized how much I miss being around your dad, and your grandma and grandpa. And I realized how much I want to get to know you too." Lex took a deep breath. "And, yes, I love your dad. Is that okay?" 

Timothy shrugged. "I guess. Are you going to live with us now?" 

"No," said Martha, at the same time as Jonathan said "Maybe," and Lex said, "I don't know." 

"We'll see, Tim," said Lex. 

"Did you go away because I'm sick, and can't do stuff like normal kids?" Tim asked seriously. 

Lex swallowed. "No, Tim, I would never leave because you're sick. But you know what? I think I might be able to find a way to make you better again. I used to be sick a lot when I was little, and it was no fun. But your dad," Lex glanced up, "your dad helped me get better. Now I want to help you get better. Sound good?" 

"Uh huh. Will I be able to go to school with other kids again?" 

"I'll do my best, Timothy," Lex said with feeling. 

Timothy smiled widely. Lex couldn't help but smile back. His son was beautiful. Timothy impulsively leaned toward Lex and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. "Thanks, mom," the boy whispered. Lex cringed again. He would have to find something better for the boy to call him, though he suspected that not only was it too late, but Clark and Martha would actively encourage the name. 

A girl with pigtails stuck her head in the open door. "Hey you. They're about to start presents." 

"All right!" Timothy yelled. He took the girl's hand and they disappeared down the hallway to the living room. 

Jonathan sighed as Lex stood up. "Lex, this isn't going to be easy, but we've made a start. Just swear to me," he said, looking Lex fiercely in the eye, "that you will never do anything to hurt my grandson -- or my son -- ever again." 

Lex looked back without flinching. "If I ever hurt them again, I'll hand you your shotgun myself." 

Jonathan nodded, then held his hand out to Martha. As they left the room, Martha clasped his shoulder hard. "I'll try," she said, "I'll try to help us be a whole family again." 

Lex took her hand and kissed it. "More than I deserve. Thank you." 

Lex turned and faced Clark. The Superman expression was back. Lex fought to contain his annoyance. 

"He's beautiful," Lex said. "And smart." 

Clark said, "He does really well in home-school. Mom teaches, and I help sometimes." 

"Any ... abnormalities?" 

"He was almost as strong and fast as I was when I landed," Clark said softly. "He's so weak now, though. I'm so scared for him, Lex," Clark said, tears springing in his eyes. 

"Oh God," Lex said, instinctively moving toward Clark. He didn't embrace Clark, as he desperately wanted. Instead, he held both of Clark's shoulders in a strong grip. "Clark, I think that LuthorCorp's experiments have poisoned him. I already have people working on cleaning it up, and we'll find a cure for Timothy, I swear." 

Clark nodded silently, blinking away his tears. "Losing him would be even worse than losing you." 

"I'm so sorry, Clark," Lex said brokenly. "I'm here now." 

"I know." Clark looked into Lex's face. "He has red hair," Clark said, a tiny smile appearing on his lips. 

"I noticed," Lex said wryly. "I'd forgotten how bright mine used to be. Poor kid." 

"It's beautiful," Clark whispered. "You're beautiful," he added, even more softly. "Do you really...?" 

"Yes," Lex whispered. "Always. I never said it before. I should have. I love you." 

Clark swallowed, but didn't reply. Lex understood. He would give Clark time. He would give him all the time in the world, as long as they could be together again, somehow. 

"Hey," Lex said softly. "We're missing the presents." 

"Yeah, I saw the load you got out of the limo. Are those all for Tim?" 

"I brought some for the other kids too," Lex said mock-defensively. 

"Philanthropist," Clark teased. 

"Keep it quiet," Lex replied, "you'll spoil my reputation as a cold-hearted tyrant." 

"Come on," Clark said, taking Lex's hand. "We'll talk later. Right now, you should watch your son open all those presents you brought. You know, mom will kick your butt if you spoil him." 

"A chance I'm willing to take," Lex said. "Say, is your mom really making pudding for supper?" 

"Yep," Clark grinned. "Don't tell her I said anything, but she's always made brandy butter for the pudding, every year, even though dad and I don't like it. I think she always knew you'd come home, even though she was mad at you for leaving." 

"A wise woman," Lex noted. "Think she'll forgive me?" 

"I forgive you, Lex," Clark said. "I always loved you too," he added in a whisper in Lex's ear, just as they came into the living room. 

Lex smiled and smiled. It felt real when Clark said it, not at all like when Lionel said it to him. 

They sat together on the sofa, watching the action. Timothy was tearing into his presents, grinning at Lex like a little madman. He opened a bag of children's books, all classics of literature, bound in leather. He seemed to have found a copy of Dickens' _A Christmas Carol_ , and had opened it near the back. 

"Listen, mom!" he called to Lex, who winced noticeably less this time. "Listen: 'He had no further intercourse with Spirits...'" Lex's eyes widened. He knew this passage. This couldn't be real. 

Tim was finishing: "'God bless Us Every One!'" He beamed at Lex. "See? I can read chapter books now! I can even read better than Laura, and she's in second grade!" 

"Very good, Tim," Lex told him, beaming right back. He probably looked like an idiot, but he didn't care. "You're very smart." 

Timothy laughed, then turned to the next bag of toys. Clark had stretched his long arm behind Lex's shoulders on the sofa. Music played softly in the background, the lights on the tree glowed, and everyone around him seemed happy and at peace. 

Lex had never felt more sure that everything would, one way or another, be all right. 

* * *

Obscura was reporting to the Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come. "I can't talk long," she said into the phone. "We're going on a road trip soon, and there's no way I'm missing this one." 

"Sure, no problem. Give me the bare bones, and I'll read your report later. So, how'd it go?" 

"Really well," she replied. "He's made contact with his son and the Kents. Barring the unforeseeable, he's on his way to being everything we hoped for." 

"A good father, affectionate lover, devoted son-in-law, _and_ ethical businessman?" 

"Looks like." 

"Fantastic." 

"Well, true love conquers canon." 

"Only when you're in charge, Obscura." 

"Heh. Oops, I'd better go. Say 'hi' to Doreen for me." 

"Will do. Have fun seeing _Batman_ on the IMAX." 

"Oh, we will," Obscura said with an evil chuckle. "I'll tell the girls all about last night -- they'll get a real kick out of it." 

"Okay, but remember -- they have to think it's just a story." 

"No problem. They have no idea what I do in my free time. Take care now." 

"'Bye." 

_The End_


End file.
